Let the Angel's Voice Be Heard
by a novelist
Summary: Nancy's friends and family try to bring to justice the murderer responsible for the death of someone close to them.
1. Chapter 1

Some say that what happened was an accident.

Others say it was suicide.

And still, others cry murder.

As for those who knew her, they would agree with the latter.

It had been several weeks since Nancy Drew's car had been found submerged in the river just outside River Heights. For weeks, investigators had been searching for her body with no luck. The case was quickly going cold. Now, three weeks later, Nancy's family and friends gathered in the Drew's living room, awaiting the one call they longed to hear.

"Why haven't they called yet?" Bess Marvin moaned in frustration.

"I'm sure they're doing the best they can," George Fayne replied softly. Even as she spoke, she dared to glance at the clock. Two hours and counting.

Suddenly, the telephone rang. Every person in the room jumped, startled by the sudden sound. Carson Drew answered it.

For a long time, he spoke and listened, cautiously keeping his face a mask. Finally, he said, "Thank you. Thank you for everything." Then he hung up and turned to the group.

"What did they say?" Bess asked immediately.

"They found her," Nancy's father said softly.

Carson didn't have to continue for them to know that she was dead. Eloise Drew—who had flown to Illinois when she first heard of the supposed accident—went to her brother's side and into his embrace. Silent tears fell from their eyes.

Ned Nickerson, Nancy's boyfriend, buried his face in his hands, fighting to keep his composure. Faintly, he heard Carson saying, "We'll get through this. It'll be okay."

* * *

"_The body of Nancy Drew was recovered this afternoon. After three weeks of searching, investigators recovered the body in the River Heights River, nearly five miles away from where her car was found. According to investigators, there is a strong possibility that Ms. Drew was dead before the car wrecked. We'll bring you up to date as soon as more information is available. Back to the news desk."_


	2. Chapter 2

Ned Nickerson stood in the doorway of his dormroom, taking one last look at what had been his home for the past four years. Everything was boxed up and ready to load up.

His cap was sitting on his desk, and his gown was draped over the back of his chair. Today was supposed to be a day of celebrating, but it was far from it. Ned crossed the room and picked up a chain necklace with a silver locket hanging from it. Inside it was a picture of Nancy and him.

_It was Christmas, and Nancy was spending the holidays with Ned and his family. She was glowing as Ned handed her a slender box with a small bow on top. Her eyes lit when she saw what was in it._

"_Ned, it's beautiful," she said. She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you." She removed the necklace from the box. "Help me put it on."_

_After he clasped the chain, she turned back to him. "What do you think?"_

"_You look beautiful," he said. _

It was that night that everything changed when her car was found in the river.

_Carson Drew and the Nickersons waited impatiently for the police to return from their search. It had been hours now since the police first showed up on the Drew's doorstep, bringing the disheartening news that Nancy's car had been found without her in it. _

_Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. The Drew's housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, answered the door, and a moment later two very somber officers entered the room. _

"_I'm sorry, sir, but we were unable to find your daughter," one officer said. _

"_However, we found this," the second said. He held out his hand, revealing something in a small plastic evidence bag._

_It was Nancy's locket._

Never had Ned felt so terrified in his life. All at once, a day that was once full of joy and excitement was turned into a living hell. And it was just beginning.

_Carson took the bag from the officer. For a long moment, he just gazed at the locket. "This doesn't necessarily mean anything, right?" he asked finally. "She could be all right, couldn't she?" _

_Ned finally spoke. _"_Did you find anything else?" he asked. _

_The officer's eyes were very sympathetic as he met Ned's eyes. "Down the river a ways, there was a trail of blood. A body was not found, so we can only assume that the current took her downstream. She could be anywhere by now."_

_The room was dead silent now. _

"_We'll do the best we can to find her."_

"Hey, Nickerson! You ready?"

Ned turned to his friend, Mike O'Shea, who stood in the doorway. "Yeah, I'm coming," he replied. He put on his graduation outfit and started to follow Mike out of the room. Suddenly, he stopped. "I forgot something," he said. He walked to his desk and picked up the locket. As he put it in his jeans pocket, Mike's eyes lit for a moment. Ned left without another word. Mike followed. As they walked down the hallway, Mike patted his friend on the back.

"They'll find who killed her," he said. "Don't worry."

"It's been over a year," Ned replied. "They've obviously given up trying to find who's responsible for her death." He shook his head. "I can't stand it. I can't stand waking up every morning, knowing there's a murderer roaming free."

Mike said, "Maybe you should bring the case back up to the police."

"They won't listen," Ned said.

"But what if they do? I mean, at this point, you've got nothing to lose."

The two friends stopped at the end of the hallway. Other soon-to-be graduates passed them.

"I know that this is hard for you," Mike said. "Losing someone close to you is always difficult to overcome, but especially when you've lost them to murder. But you've got to let go sometime. I think that only way you will ever be able to put it all behind you is if you find who did this to her. She deserves justice, Ned."

Before Ned could answer, the sound of the clock in the foyer filled the air.

Mike smiled. "This is it," he said.

The two friends joined the crowd in front of them. Slowly, they filed into the room. The graduation music was playing, although it was barely audible over the voices of hundreds of family members and friends of graduates.

_All but one person,_ Ned thought solemnly.

He sat through the graduation. As his name was called, his parents took several pictures, but very few that included him smiling.

After, he met up with his family.

"Congratulations," Mr. Nickerson said. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," he said.

His mother gave him a hug. When she pulled back, she gave him a shaky smile. "I'm so proud of you," she said. "For everything. For staying strong this past year especially."

For a moment, the three of them stood there in silence. It was obvious their thoughts were elsewhere. It was hardly a day of celebrating. Finally, Mrs. Nickerson said, "Come on. Let's go home."

--

"I think we should bring the case back up to the police."

Mrs. Nickerson, who had been making dinner, stopped what she was doing to look at her son. Ned's father did the same. Ned continued.

"It's been over a year now, and all of us are still going crazy with the grief and the anger we have. That grief and anger will never go away as long as the person that killed her is free. It'll just keep building up inside us as long as this case remains unsolved."

Mr. Nickerson sighed. "Any evidence will be long gone by now."

"There has to be something that they missed," Ned said.

"Son—" Mr. Nickerson began, but his wife cut him off.

"What brought this up?" she asked softly.

Ned thought about how he had felt at graduation, receiving his diploma and feeling nothing but emptiness inside.

"I'm sick of not knowing," he said. "I can't stand the fact that they can just brush the case off like it was nothing." He stood up. "I'm going to go for a drive," he said. "I need to get out. Go somewhere."

His parents just nodded. "Drive careful," his mother said. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

--

Bess was in the middle of eating when her cell phone went off. She rolled her eyes and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bess, it's George."

"Hey, what's up?"

"I'm coming to pick you up."

"When? And why?"

"Right now. Ned, you and I are going to the police station."

"Why there?" Bess asked again. She put the phone on speaker while she put her shoes on.

"We're going to find who murdered Nancy."

--

"I understand you want to bring up the Drew case again." Detective John Harris took a seat behind his desk.

Bess, George, and Ned took a seat across from him. "Yes, sir," George said.

"This case has been closed for several months. Why now?" the detective asked.

"We feel like we aren't able to put this behind us until the murderer is arrested," Bess said. "It just isn't right that someone just got away with taking Nancy's life. I mean, do you not care—"

"Miss, we've done what we can do," Detective Harris interrupted.

"So that's it? You're just going to give up?"

"Bess—" George began.

"Forget it. We can just find the criminal ourselves."

"_Bess."_

"Alright, listen," Detective Harris said. He sighed and rubbed his eyes warily. "I've already discussed this with my supervisor when you first called, and he doesn't want the case reopened, end of discussion. But if you wanted to continue on your own…" He took a manila folder out of one of his desk drawers. "I'm not supposed to do this, but I'm willing to share what we managed to find." He pushed the envelope toward the group.

They opened the folder and poured over the information.

**Name:** Nancy Drew

**Cause of Death**: massive head trauma

**Evidence**: silver locket, blood found several feet away from location of the car, rope fibers found inside the car

**Other Notes**: deep red marks found around victim's wrists and ankles, victim's feet were left bare

"Her shoes were missing?" George asked in disbelief.

"That's one thing we just couldn't get to fit," Detective Harris said. "But it also helped us in a major way. One thing we know for sure is that this person has killed before."

"What? How do you know that?" Ned asked.

Detective Harris sat back in his chair. "In the past two years, I have personally dealt with twelve murders. Of the twelve, seven of them were women. Of the seven women, five of them were found in either a river or lake in some part of the state, and the same five were found without shoes. Why the killer would collect the shoes is beyond me."

"And the car? Was anything found in or on the car?" Ned asked.

"We searched the car, but as listed, the only thing found was the rope fibers. Since the car was in the water, almost all useful evidence was washed away. We were lucky to find what we did."

The three friends stood. "Thanks for your time," Ned said. "We appreciate it."

The detective stood. "Not a problem. I'll see you out."


	3. Chapter 3

Hello again! Here's the next chapter. I hope you all like it :) I know it isn't much, but hopefully next chapter will be longer, and hopefully the story will pick up soon. Enjoy :)

* * *

The next afternoon, Detective Harris called with a list of former suspects. Ned, Bess, and George went to the police station as soon as possible to view each of the suspects' files.

"These are the suspects that were interrogated a year ago, one week after Ms. Drew's body was found," the detective said. He pulled a stack of files from his drawer and placed them in a pile on his desk. The three friends began looking through them.

**Name**: Sampson, Brett

**Age:** 32

**Criminal History**: none

**Motive**: none known

**Alibi**: none

**Notes**: suspect was seen around crime scene shortly after victim was found; further investigation revealed that suspect was a former neighbor of victim

**Name**: Roberts, Marcus

**Age:** 48

**Criminal History**: April 1982-convicted of kidnapping

May 1994-charged with battery; not convicted

December 2010-restraining order issued against Ms. Nancy Drew

**Motive**: suspect was issued a restraining order against Ms. Drew two days prior to the day she went missing

**Alibi**: suspect claims to have been at Chuck's Bar and Grill between 12:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. December 25th

**Notes**: waitress verified that suspect came into restaurant at 11:30p.m. and then left at 2:30 a.m. with an unidentified male suspect. At 4:00 a.m. suspect returned to Chuck's Bar and Grill.

"Was the man Roberts left with ever identified?" Ned asked.

Detective Harris shook his head. "We asked Roberts about him during our interrogation, but he says he doesn't remember leaving with anyone else."

"That doesn't seem very likely," George commented.

"I agree completely. But without solid evidence, all we have is his word."

As they spoke, Ned began looking at the third and final profile.

**Name**: Jameson, Benjamin

Ned narrowed his eyes. He didn't have to read any more to know that this man had plenty reason to get back at Nancy. From the stories he had heard from Nancy, Benjamin Jameson had been nothing but abusive throughout their relationship. He continued reading.

**Age:** 28

**Criminal History**: January 2003-charged with assault

November 2004-charged with assault and battery

December 2005-charged with assault

**Motive**: Ex-boyfriend of victim

**Alibi**: suspect claims to have spent Christmas evening with his fiancé, Samantha Walters, and her family

**Notes**: alibi was unable to be verified; address given by suspect was an incorrect address; house has been unoccupied for eight years

"Hopefully this will give you a start, anyway," Detective Harris said.

"It should," Bess agreed. "Thank you."

As they walked to the car, George asked, "Are you okay, Ned?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

She studied him a moment. "No, you're not," she said finally. "You read something that bothered you. What's up?"

However, Ned evaded her question. "What's our first step in this?"

"We need to find these three suspects—and find out who that fourth person is," George said. "I think identifying the unidentified male Simon Roberts left with will lead us to a great deal of information."

"So now…"

"We find our first suspect."

--

Later that evening, after countless hours of researching, Ned, Bess, and George approached a small townhouse on the outskirts of River Heights.

"Is this it?" Bess asked.

Ned checked the address he had written down, and then nodded. "This is the place," he said.

George knocked on the door. A moment later, a middle aged man answered the door. He was tall and balding, but patches of dark hair were faintly visible. His eyes, piercing black, gazed at the three expectantly. His expression was that of annoyance.

"Mr. Roberts?"

"Yeah, that's me. What do you want?"

"We were wondering if you had a few minutes," Bess said.

"For what?"

"We're investigating—"

"I didn't do nothin'," the man said. "Leave me alone." He started to close the door.

"Wait," Bess said. "We're investigating the murder of Nancy Drew."

At hearing the name, he stopped. Bess continued. "We just wanted to ask you a few questions."

He considered for a long moment, studying the three friends. Finally, he sighed and opened the door. "Come on in."

--

"I wasn't aware that they were still investigating the Drew case. I thought they closed it months ago. Come in, have a seat. Can I get you anything?"

"No thanks," Ned replied. "So you remember hearing about her murder?"

"Hear about it? The bloody police showed up, poundin' on my door in the middle of the night, demandin' to know what was going on. Like I would know. I was sleepin' 'til they came." He scowled.

"The report says that you were at Chuck's Bar and Grill between midnight and three."

"That's right. The waitress can prove it, too. 'Course I don't know if she still works there or not—but that's beside the point. I got an alibi and I'm stickin' to it."

"But it also says you left between two-thirty and four, and then came back. Where did you go?"

"I don't remember. That was over a year ago. How am I supposed to know what I did?"

Bess and George exchanged glances. George stepped in.

"You remember being at the bar, though. Who were you with?"

"B—wait, wait, wait. I don't have to answer any of your questions. Who are you, anyway? Not real detectives. You look too young."

"We _aren't_ too young, actually," George retorted. "But we're friends of Nancy Drew. We're working with the police to solve her murder."

"Well, until I speak with a legitimate detective, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"That's fine. Thanks for your time."

He led them to the door and saw them out. They had barely made it out the door before it slammed behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this story is dragging. Hopefully it will pick up soon. Enjoy the next chapter!

PS: If you have any ideas for the story, please let me know - I'm suffering from writers block. :-p

* * *

Ned, Bess, and George met at George's apartment the next morning to plan what to do next.

"So the first confrontation got us nowhere," Bess said. "Now what?"

"Well, we aren't going to get anything more out of Marcus Roberts—not anytime soon, that is. We'll just have to move on," George replied. "So who's next?"

"Either Brett Sampson or Benjamin Jameson," Ned replied.

"Brett Sampson doesn't really have motive or anything else to murder Nancy—he just seems like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Let's concentrate on Benjamin," Bess said.

George shuttered. "I never did like him," she said. "He's so…"

"Cruel?"

"Yeah. Cruel. To say the least." She stood. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

* * *

Finding him was much easier said than done.

They looked his address up in the telephone book, but he wasn't listed. They looked him up on the computer, but still, their luck ran short. Finally, they decided to check the only address they knew of, which was the one he had while he dated Nancy many years ago.

The three stood on the porch, arguing over who would be the one to knock on the door. They were still arguing several moments later when the door suddenly opened. They froze.

In the doorway stood Benjamin Jameson. Standing at an astounding six-foot four, he seemed even more intimidating than years before when the girls had first met him. Not only had he grown taller, but his muscles had increased greatly. A tatoo of a skull was visible on his left shoulder, and a scar ran from his left eyes to the middle of his cheek. He pushed his dark hair out of his eyes before glaring at the group.

"Well, who do we have here?" he said mockingly. "It's been a while."

"Not long enough," Bess muttered. George nudged her and met Benjamin's eyes.

"We need to talk. Privately."

To their great surprise, he stepped back, allowing them in—Ned first, followed by the two cousins. They were led into the living room.

"So what's so important that you had to interrupt my perfect Sunday?" Benjamin asked. He fell heavily into the nearest chair, and then stared expectantly at the group.

"You've heard of Nancy Drew's murder," Bess began.

He snorted in response. "Yeah. She finally got what she deserved."

Ned, Bess, and George exchanged glances. "What makes you say that?" George asked, carefully keeping her voice innocent.

"Oh, come on. Like you don't know. All she ever did was cause trouble. No one liked her. They may say they liked her, but you know they can't be serious. She spent half of her time putting people in jail, which of course ticked people off, and the other half getting herself kidnapped. Good for nothin', that's what she was."

George glanced at Ned. He looked as if he were about to explode. She met his eyes and shook her head very slightly before turning back to Benjamin. "You were supposedly in love with her once," she said pointedly.

"Yeah, well…" Benjamin shook his head. "That doesn't count." He sighed. "Believe me—whoever killed her was doing you a favor. Take my advice—put it to rest already; quit trying to play detective, and instead, take advantage of the good deed done for you."

Ned shot to his feet. Immediately, Bess and George followed. Benjamin stood calmly. "If you can't face the facts, that's your problem. But if you're trying to find the one person brave enough to finish her off, you're looking in the wrong place. So get."

But they weren't about to give up. "If you're so innocent, why did you lie about your alibi for the night of the kidnapping?" Ned asked.

"Do you know how bad it would look to tell the police you don't have an alibi? Come on. I had to."

"Don't you think it would look worse to lie about an alibi than to just not have one?" Bess said.

"He's a guy, Bess. He doesn't think like that, obviously. No offense, Ned."

"None taken."

"I've had enough of this. Get out."

George and Ned walked out the door. Bess shot him a nasty glare before following her friends.

* * *

Bess arrived home late that evening. She set her keys on the table and immediately went to the bedroom. She quickly put her pajamas on and collapsed on the bed. It was only a minute later that the telephone rang.

"Ugh. Go away," she said. But the telephone continued to ring. She finally picked up.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello?" she said again.

Again, no answer. She was about to hang up when suddenly, a raspy voice spoke up.

"You're looking in the wrong place."

For a moment, Bess remained silent. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Who is this?"

"If you want to find out who murdered Nancy Drew, meet me at Town Hall at two tomorrow afternoon. Come alone, or you might just end up like your friend."

The line went dead.


	5. Chapter 5

"You can't go."

"George, I'll be fine. Trust me."

"Bess, what if it's a trap?"

"That's a chance we'll have to take. Besides, if you learned anything from Nancy, it should be to follow every lead. If this isn't a lead, I don't know what is."

"Bess is right," Ned said. "But you aren't going alone."

"But the police won't help us."

"So we'll go ourselves."

Bess and George both stared at Ned. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What choice do we have?"

George sighed. "None."

"Okay. Here's the plan…"

* * *

Town Hall was completely deserted when Ned, Bess, and George arrived. They immediately went to their positions. 2:54. The mysterious caller should arrive soon.

While Ned and George hid in bushes, Bess found a bench and waited.

Three o'clock came and went, and still, the caller did not show. Four o'clock, and then four thirty. Bess sighed and stood. But she suddenly heard a sound behind her. Before she could turn, an arm wrapped itself around her neck, and a hand clasped over her mouth. Panic seized her. She immediately began to struggle.

Someone yanked her attacker away. Bess fell to the ground; George helped her up. In a daze, she followed George as she began to run. Ned struggled on the ground with the attacker.

The cousins ran to the car. When they made it, they both collapsed inside, gasping for breath.

"Ned!" Bess exclaimed. "He's still out there! What if…" she trailed off as she saw a familiar figure coming up the hill.

A dark bruise was forming on his cheek, and he seemed to limp a bit on his left leg, but otherwise, Ned was fine. He opened the driver's side door and slid in.

"Are you okay?" George asked.

Ned nodded. "He got away," he said softly.

"Did you get a good look at him?" Bess asked.

Ned shook his head in disgust. "I didn't see anything; he had a mask and gloves on." He smiled a little. "At least I was able to get a few good hits in."

"You know we have to report this," George said. "This case has become more than solving a murder. This person is determined."

For a moment, the three friends sat in complete silence, taking everything in. Finally, Ned said softly, "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

When they arrived at the police station, they immediately requested to speak to Detective Harris; he refused. At his refusal, the three friends decided to take it up with the head of the department. They were let in almost immediately.

"Did you solve the murder yet?" Detective Harris asked. His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"That's why we're here," Ned said. "Someone attacked Bess this afternoon. We're getting too close; we need the police's help."

"This case is no longer my problem; I already told you that. And if you want to file a report about whatever happened this afternoon, you'll have to take it up with the local police; that isn't my field."

George stepped in. "There are five unsolved murders, and you're saying this is _no longer your problem? _Are you serious?"

"This case went cold a year and a half ago. Do you know how many murders have come in since your friend's?"

George slammed her fist onto his desk. "It doesn't matter!" she said. "There are five unsolved murders now, and you don't even care. Do you know how much pain those five families are in? Each day, they have to go on knowing that a murderer got away with taking their daughter, or their sister, their mother, or their aunt. Each day, they have to wake up with one less family member. Those five women, they may be dead, but they still can be heard. Each has a story, and unless you listen, you're just going to let their stories go by. Let their voices be heard, detective."

"I don't need to hear this from a bunch of teenagers," Detective Harris grumbled. "Come on. Get out. File your report and leave." He stood. "I'll see you out."

"Is it just me, or does he seem like he's hiding something?" Bess asked.

"I actually agree," Ned replied. "Why is he so against solving this case?"

"Something more is going on here. We've got to figure out what."

"So what do we do now?"

"We find our third suspect."

* * *

Brett Sampson, they found out, worked nights at a local club as a DJ.

"What time does the club close?" George asked.

"Five," Ned replied.

"In the morning?"

"Yeah. In the morning. When should we go?"

"I vote we rest up, leave here at four-thirty, and show up by closing time. We'll catch him when he gets off work."

"Sounds good."

They arrived at the club before closing. They were reluctantly let in by a choosy doorman. Just as they walked in, the DJ came over the intercom. "Alright, everyone. Last song's up! Grab your loved one and get on the floor. All couples on the floor."

As the song began, all of the world seemed to fade away.

"_Come on, just one dance."_

"_Ned, I can't dance," Nancy replied._

"_Just one dance," Ned repeated._

_Nancy sighed, and then laughed at his pleading face. "Alright. One dance. Just because you're cute when you beg."_

_She took his hand and followed him onto the dance floor._

"Ned, are you okay?" George asked.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. His eyes were fixed on the couples dancing on the dance floor.

_Nancy wrapped her arms around his neck as he took her in his arms. They swayed in silence for a long moment. _

"_See, you're a great dancer," he said._

_Nancy blushed. "You're just saying that because you have to."_

_Ned grinned. "Baby, if you couldn't dance, believe me, you would know it by now."_

_Nancy smiled. She rested her head on his chest. "I never want this song to end. I want this moment to last forever."_

_Ned kissed the top of her head. "Me, too."_

"Ned." George was looking at him in concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" he rubbed his eyes wearily. "I'm fine."

"Let's head over there. The song's almost over," Bess said.

They pushed through the couples who were now heading toward the door.

"There he is."

Behind the DJ station, putting away CDs and headphones, was a fairly short man. His blond hair was spiked up, and multiple earrings hung from his ears.

"Mr. Sampson?"

He looked up. "That's me. What's up?"

Ned stepped forward. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

A mixture of confusion and fear flashed over his face. "What is this concerning?"

"Your former neighbor. Nancy Drew."

Brett narrowed his eyes. "Yes, yes, I remember her. Sweet girl, she was. Such a shame she had to go that way. Such a tragedy."

"Yeah," Ned replied. "We just want to know why, exactly, you were at the same place Nancy's body was found."

"Oh, it's hard telling. I was probably searching for rocks for my collection. Or maybe not. It was over a year ago; how should I know what I was doing?" He glanced at his watch. "I've got to clock out, but if you have more questions, you're welcome to come by the house anytime. I'd love to help." He scrawled down his address.

"How about now?" George asked.

"Now's fine. I'll meet you there."

* * *

"So. You're trying to find who murdered your friend." Brett took a seat across from the group and set his feet up. "Are you making any progress?"

"We're trying to," Bess said, evading his question. "So, you said you collected rocks?"

"Oh, yes, I have quite the collection. They're in the attic now, though, and if you don't mind, I'd rather not go up there right now. Rats, you know."

"Of course."

"So how long did you know Nancy?"

Brett sat back in his chair. "Oh, since she was a little girl, I'd say. She was always outside exploring. I watched her grow up over the years." He gave a short laugh. "She even called me uncle a few times when she was just a toddler. She grew up to be a fine young woman."

"When did you move away?"

"I moved away in November of last year—a month before Nancy's murder, if you want to know. I still came to visit every now and then, though. I even saw Nancy at Christmas, the morning she disappeared."

George's gaze roamed around the man's house as he spoke. The living room was softly lit with candles, and pictures of family and friends hung on one wall. On another, beautifully painted pictures were visible. One picture stood out amongst the others.

"That picture is interesting," she commented.

Brett's gaze went to what she was talking about, which was several pieces of fabric sewn together and framed. "Ah, yes. That's my favorite picture of all. Brings back memories every time I see them."

Suddenly, a shiver ran down her spine. She stood. "Thank you for your time. I'm sorry to bother you."

"Not at all. If there's any way I can help, let me know."

"We will. Good-bye."

* * *

Feel free to let me know what you think. Hope you liked it so far!


	6. Chapter 6

I'm bored and excited for the last few chapters, so I'm posting again. Please feel free to tell me what you think-good or bad. Enjoy!

* * *

"What now?" Bess asked. "It seems like we've hit a dead end. We're getting absolutely nowhere."

"I don't know." Ned ran a hand through his hair. "We know that the first two suspects have a strong motive for murder—especially Nancy's ex-boyfriend. Brett Sampson, though—he seems like he's in the clear."

"There is one thing. That picture on his wall? The one with the fabric? Isn't it a strange thing to hang on your wall?" George asked.

"Yeah, well, if I remember right, he wasn't exactly the most sane neighbor," Bess said. "Nancy used to have so many stories about him. Crazy guy, he was. One time he ran outside in his boxers, chasing a cat out of his yard with a rake. He may seem nice, but he has a temper like none other."

"You know what we should do?" Ned said after a long silence. "We need to search their houses. You know, for any evidence there may be."

"What evidence could there be?" Bess asked. "It's been over a year. Like so many people have told us before—all of the evidence will be long gone by now."

"But I remember something Detective Harris told us the day the autopsy results returned for Nancy. He told us they were trying to relate the murder to previous murder cases. All of the evidence seemed to be similar except for two key things. First, the four other women were kidnapped, killed, and found all within one night, two at the very most. But as you may remember, it took three weeks to find Nancy."

"So whoever had her kept her alive longer than the other women," George said, and Ned nodded before continuing.

"Previously, the murderer had used a gun on the women—one shot to the head, leading to an instant death. However, Nancy's death seemed more drawn out; she wasn't shot. A murder weapon was never found for any of the murders."

"So whoever killed them may still have the gun!" Bess exclaimed. "But the police won't help us. How do we get in?"

George and Ned exchanged glances. At the same time, they said, "We break in."

* * *

The first house they searched Benjamin Jameson's.

It was a Saturday night—a night that they knew he would be out on. Dressed completely in black, the three friends now stood in front of the door, struggling to pick the lock on the front door.

"Turn it left."

"I tried that, Bess. It doesn't work."

"Turn it left again. I'm sure you turn it left."

"Ugh. How did Nancy do this so easily?"

"Let me try," Ned said. George stepped aside and handed Ned the lock picking kit. Less than a minute later, the door was unlocked.

"How did you do that?" the girls asked in unison.

Ned smiled. "Years of experience. Come on. Let's go."

They were greeted by the lingering smell of what must have been dinner. The house was completely dark and dead silent.

"Let's split up. George and I will go upstairs; Bess, you search the downstairs."

"Got it."

The downstairs consisted of a living room and kitchen. Bess searched the kitchen first, but found nothing. She moved to the living room.

After a quick search under cushions and on shelves, she still came up with nothing. She then noticed a book on the table. She picked it up and a note fluttered to the ground. Her breath caught as she read it.

_Town Hall. 3:00 pm._

* * *

"Did you find anything?" Bess asked as the three friend left the house.

George shook her head. "No gun, no weapon of any kind. How about you?"

"I found this." Bess pulled the note out of her pocket and showed it to the others.

"So _he_ was the attacker!" George exclaimed.

"Should we take it to the police?" Bess asked.

Ned shook his head. "We need more evidence. Before we do anything, we need to confront him about this."

"Alright. What time is it?"

George glanced at her watch. "Two o'clock. We won't be questioning him tonight. Should we try another house?"

"Do we dare push our luck?" Bess asked.

George nodded. "Let's go to Brett Sampson's. I want a closer look at that picture."

* * *

They got into the house much easier than the first house. The door was already unlocked.

Because his house was a single story home, it was easier to search. While Ned and Bess explored bedrooms, George immediately went to the picture frame on the wall. After several moments, Ned and Bess returned to the living room.

"Nothing," Ned said.

"Look what I found." Bess handed Ned a letter. George read it over his shoulder.

_**Original Message:**_

_Mr. Harris—_

_The __storm has now passed. Please check the following locations for damage._

_40:26:46N,79:56:55W _

_45:01:09N, 84:31:18W_

_**RE:**_

_All damaged property has been properly taken care of._

"Do you think it's coded somehow?" George asked.

"Definitely. Look at the date," Ned said.

_01/14/09_

"The day before Nancy was found. Someone has been covering up for these murders. George, did you find anything?"

George nodded somberly. "Come look at this."

The three friends knelt in front of the framed fabric. George had taken the back off.

"There's five pieces of fabric," she said in a shaky voice.

"That might not mean anything," Bess said. "I mean, maybe he bought it, and it's a coincidence…"

"But look. There's writing on each piece."

_E.B._

_S.T._

_D.B._

_F.C._

_N.D._

"Initials," George said. "Five victims, five pairs of shoes, five pieces of fabric."

"Oh my—you don't think—" Bess broke off.

Ned's gaze never left the fabric with his girlfriend's initials. He took a shaky breath. "Nancy spent the last few nights of her life here."

Suddenly, they heard a door slam shut. They froze.

"He isn't supposed to be home yet!" George hissed.

"Hide," Ned said. They each scrambled for a hiding spot. Then, they waited.

Minutes passed by like hours. Brett Sampson took his time putting away his belongings. George peered from behind the bookcase. He noticed the picture frame—it was still down. He showed no emotion or acknowledgment from his expression, but instead went to the bedroom. She waited until she heard the door shut behind him to say, "We have to get out of here."

"You're right," Ned said. "Let's go."

"Oh, you aren't going anywhere."

George closed her eyes. _Busted._


	7. Chapter 7

Warning to readers: this chapter includes a _very vague suggestion _of rape.

* * *

George turned slowly to find a gun pointed at her face. "Get up," Brett said. She did as she was instructed.

"You two, get up, too. I know you're here. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Bess and Ned exchanged glances.

"Get up now, or I kill her," Brett said.

Ned took a deep breath before standing from his hiding place. Bess followed suit.

"Now that we're all up and cooperating, let's take a stroll, shall we?" He motioned them forward.

They were instructed to go down a long hallway. Toward the end of it, Brett stopped and knelt down. He pulled up one of the loose boards in the floor, and then lifted up a much larger portion of the floor, revealing a hidden room.

The room was large and very dimly lit. A single light hung above them, providing very little light for the room. The walls were bare, and the room was vacant of any furniture. A single hook had been drilled into the concrete, and from it hung rope that had been rolled up.

"On the floor," he said.

As they took a seat, Bess said, "You aren't going to get away with this. The police know we're here," she lied.

"Really?" a new voice said. Their gaze went toward the only exit, where Detective Harris stood, blocking their way. "Because I beg to differ with that claim."

"_You're _in on this, too?"

"Yes, I am. I've been in on it for several years now—in more ways than one. Not only did I have access to all of the evidence found in each of these murders, but whenever someone began to catch on—just as you did—I was easily able to throw them off. Because I was considered an expert in the five murders, they trusted me when I said they were wrong." He sighed. "Being on the force really does help a man out." He turned to Brett. "Do you need help here?"

"Just hold a gun on them 'til they're tied up," Brett replied. He removed the rope from its hook and then tied each of them up, one by one.

"While we have you here," George said, "do you mind explaining a few things?"

Brett and Detective Harris exchanged glances, and then shrugged. "You're not getting out of here alive anyway," Brett said, "so why not? What do you want to know?"

George glanced at Ned, who nodded ever so slightly. She knew her responsibility. Keep them talking. "Why did you do it? Do you have any idea what you did to those families? To us?"

"Starting with the basics, I see. Well, as you probably know, I suffered from severe depression several years ago. I'm sure you already knew that from Ms. Drew. Anyway, it soon got to the point where medicine couldn't even help me. But one day I saw this woman. She was so pretty, and all alone. So I decided to try a new tactic when it came to controlling my depression. I took advantage of her, and then killed her. And surprisingly, it helped."

"So I continued. After a while, it was almost like my own type of drug. It became addicting, almost. Then, I came across Nancy Drew."

The expression in Brett's eyes and on his face changed. He actually smiled a little. The three friends mentally prepared themselves for the worst as the truth behind Nancy Drew's death came out.

"I wasn't lying when I said I saw her on Christmas. I saw her, alright-right here in my basement, crying and fighting every moment. I must say, she was different from the other women. The others were terrified beyond words—beyond movement, really. They cooperated, thinking if they did they would get out of there. But Ms. Drew—she knew better. She knew she wasn't getting out of here. So she put up a fight. Every single time we came down here, she would fight." He shook his head. "I should have just pulled the gun then and there, the first night we had with her. But I just couldn't do it. That's where Jonathan came in." He glanced at Detective Harris.

The detective took up the story. "We noticed she had on a silver locket, and immediately thought of the possibilities. We knew Carson Drew and his reputation. We also knew he would do anything possible to get his baby girl back alive. So we decided to do something different and hold her for ransom. I removed her necklace with great difficulty-apparently that necklace meant a great deal to her, and she wasn't about to let me have it easily-and put it in my pocket until we could get a note written up. I was then sent to ditch her car—make it look like an accident. So I left—"

"—With the locket still in your pocket," Ned finished. "That's how they found the locket—it fell from your pocket when you pushed her car into the river."

The detective nodded. "I still can't believe I was so clumsy. I was furious at myself. Here we were with the perfect chance at some major money, and I lose the locket. I would have gone back and gotten it, but another detective found it first." He shrugged. "What's done is done, I guess."

"All of the other women were murdered the same night they were kidnapped," Bess said. "Why did you keep Nancy alive so long?"

"The longer I kept her alive, the more she fought," Brett said. "She made it much more challenging, and I liked a challenge. So I kept her alive as long as I could—about three weeks, I would say. But I wasn't going to let her go as easily as the rest, which is why I didn't shoot her." He glanced at the trio. "I'm sure you put two and two together there."

George glanced at Ned; he was almost free. "And the murder weapon?" she said. "Is that why you were at the same place Nancy was found?"

Brett nodded. "I was hiding the murder weapon—threw it in the creek. You see, a murder weapon was never found because once I finished using one, I would hide it then send a coded note to Detective Harris, who would then retrieve the weapon and take whatever measures necessary to dispose of it before another detective could find it."

"Was it you who attacked Bess at Town Hall?"

"Yes, it was. I can tell you're used to situations like those—you came prepared." He shot a glance at Ned. "Anyway, I knew from Jonathan's report that you were looking into two other suspects. I happened to run in to Ms. Drew's ex at the store one day and hid a note, framing him as the attacker."

Detective Harris glanced at his watch. "We need to get rid of them soon," he said. "I have to report to the station at four. We'll need to clean up before then."

"Alright. You go upstairs and get everything ready. I'll be up in a minute."

The detective left the room. Brett turned to the three friends. For a moment, he said nothing. Finally, said, "Nancy Drew died in this very room almost two years ago." He slowly walked toward the three friends. "How funny it is that almost two years later, her three best friends sit in the very room she passed in, just moments away from the same fate."

"You're going to burn in hell for this," Bess said harshly.

Brett took a step closer. "Well, I see we have a volunteer to go first," he said. He produced a gun from his back pocket and turned the safety latch off. "Say what you want, hon. You aren't going to change my mind." He raised his gun.

At that moment, Ned lunged at the man. The gun fell from his hand and slid out of reach. Both men scrambled to get it.

Almost two years ago, their lives were changed forever when Nancy Drew was kidnapped and murdered. Now, all of the anger that had been held in for that time was released as Ned fought for not only their lives, but for justice for those unable to fight for themselves.

As Ned and Brett fought on the floor, Bess and George frantically struggled against their bonds. Suddenly, the door opened, and Detective Harris appeared. Seeing the fight, he pulled a gun from his holster and took aim.

"Ned!" Bess screamed.

Ned looked up for a split second and saw the gun. Momentarily distracted, he was unprepared for what happened next. Brett caught hold of him and with all his strength, pushed him backwards into the concrete wall.

Before he could recover, the gun went off.


	8. Chapter 8

Very short, I know, but hopefully you still like it. One more chapter after this. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

Thank you very much for your reviews so far. I really appreciate them all.

* * *

"Ned."

From the darkness emerged an all too familiar figure.

"Nancy?"

The darkness around him disappeared as the skies turned bright and cheerful. _Heaven,_ he thought in amazement.

Nancy stood in front of him, all scars gone, all bruises healed. She was smiling.

"You need to get up, baby," she said.

Ned stepped forward, closer to his girlfriend. "I don't want to leave you," he said. "I don't want to lose you. Not again."

"You won't lose me," she said. "We'll be together soon, I promise. But you can't let him get away with this. You've got to get up." She stepped closer to him. "He's already taken five lives; you can't let yourself be number six."

Ned met her eyes steadily. "They won't get away with this," he said softly. "I'll make sure of it."

Suddenly, everything began to shake. Nancy gave him one last soft smile. "I love you, Ned," she said softly. "Make me proud."

Then, as quickly as she had appeared, Nancy and the heavens around her collapsed, and he fell into darkness once again.

* * *

A crowd had formed in the emergency room waiting room as they waited for any word on Ned's condition.

In one corner of the room, Bess and George were being interviewed by two policemen after their miraculous escape from Brett Sampson's basement. In another corner, Carson Drew and James Nickerson paced the floor restlessly while Hannah Gruen and Edith Nickerson stayed seated with their heads bowed in silent prayer.

Ned had been brought in with two gunshot wounds, both to the chest. Miraculously, neither had pierced his heart, though they had come dangerously close. The next few hours of surgery would be a life or death situation—it would have to be handled very carefully.

Hours passed by. Finally, by seven o'clock, after over three hours of surgery, a doctor emerged through the double doors. "Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson?" he asked.

"That's us," Mr. Nickerson said. "How is my son?"

"I'm proud to say that the surgery was successful. Both bullets were removed, and he is expected to make a full recovery within a few weeks."

Mrs. Nickerson sagged against her husband. "Thank God," she said.

"He will have to be watched for a few days to make sure all is well. We did have a little difficulty during the surgery."

"What happened?" George asked.

"His heart stopped for several minutes. We tried to revive him, but it didn't work right away. We finally called the time and date of death. But then out of nowhere, the machine detected a faint pulse; his heart had begun to beat again." The doctor smiled. "I would say he has a guardian angel keeping a close eye on him."

They all looked at one another and smiled. Mr. Nickerson pulled Nancy's locket, which had been found in Ned's jeans pocket and had to be removed before surgery, out of his own coat pocket and smiled down at it. Without looking away, he said to the doctor, "Yes, he certainly does."


	9. Chapter 9

On the two year anniversary of Nancy's death, three weeks after Christmas, a group formed to gather at her gravesite. Bess, George, Ned, his family, and Nancy's family—Carson and Eloise Drew—stood around her grave. This time, they were able to breathe easier as they knew she could finally rest in peace.

Brett Sampson and Jonathan Harris were both will spend life prison without possibility of parole after receiving five counts of first degree premeditated murder, one count of attempted murder, and eight counts of kidnapping.

Now, Nancy's friends and family each placed a red rose on her grave. Carson and Eloise knelt in front of her and placed their roses by one another. Eloise kissed the tips of her fingers then pressed them against Nancy's gravestone. "May you rest in peace, honey," she said. "We love you."

Carson sighed. "Nineteen years," he said. "I was given nineteen wonderful years with you. I will always cherish those years." Tears welled up in his eyes; a few fell onto the roses on his daughter's grave. The sight was touching; very rarely had Carson Drew been seen crying. Softly, he said, "I'm so proud of you. You stayed strong, and you will always be remembered for that and so much more." His voice broke as he said, "I love you, sweetheart."

Carson wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulder as they arose. She leaned against his shoulder. Tears stood in her eyes, but they did not fall. She actually smiled.

Next was Bess and George and finally, Ned and his family.

Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson placed their roses and then stepped back. "We'll give you some time alone," Ned's mother said. Ned nodded.

He knelt in front of Nancy's grave and placed his rose. For a moment, he was silent as memories flooded his head. He finally sighed deeply before speaking. "We got them, Nan. Just like I promised, they're both in prison." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," he said shakily. "I'm sorry you had to go through those three weeks of torture. No one should have to go through what you did. But I know you're happy now. Your suffering is done, and you can rest in peace forever more."

Ned then pulled Nancy's silver locket from his jacket pocket. With his fingers, he dug a shallow hole. He gazed down at the locket for a long moment. That one piece of jewelry held so many memories, some which were meant to cherish, and some which were meant to be forgotten. But no matter what happened, Ned knew Nancy Drew would never be forgotten. He dropped the locket into its shallow grave before burying it.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. Ned closed his eyes. For several moments, there at her grave, Ned could have sworn that he felt Nancy's arms around him. Tears built up in his eyes. _I will always love you,_ he thought.

He stood. Bess and George came up behind him; each girl gave him a hug. Then, the three friends stood together in front of Nancy's grave, gazing at their friend's gravestone.

"She was a fighter," George said. "We know that for sure."

Ned nodded. "She suffered during those last few weeks of her life, but she didn't go down without a fight. She fought to the death. I'm sure she'll always be honored for that."

The silence following lasted a few minutes. It was broken by footsteps behind them. They turned and found Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson standing there. Behind them stood a group of people.

"There's someone here to see you," Mrs. Nickerson said. She and her husband stepped back. "These are the parents and spouses of the four women who lost their lives over the past several years."

Ned, Bess, and George looked into the faces of four families. They couldn't have looked any different. Their hair color varied anywhere from blond to brown or red. Their height differed, also. One couple was very tall, while the others were much shorter. The one similarity was the look of relief in each of their eyes. One of the taller men came forward.

"I would like to thank you all," he said in a heavy Italian accent. "Because of you, our daughter—" he motioned toward his wife, "—and others can truly rest in peace. I'm sure I speak for us all when I say we are eternally grateful for you three."

It was then that the three friends realized each and every one of them had something in common.

Strength. Each family had been through hell and back over the past few years, knowing there were five women who had not gotten the justice they deserved. Now, because of three people who refused to give up, closure was finally given to each family.

Ned, Bess, and George smiled at the group. "We figured it was long overdue," Bess said.

"That's for certain," one of the women said with a small laugh.

Each family member of the four victims gave Ned, Bess, and George a hug before they left. As the last person began to walk away, Carson and Eloise Drew walked up with Ned's parents following close by.

"That was a very brave thing you three did," Carson said. "I must say I'm very proud of all of you. And I'm sure if Nancy were here, she would say the same." He sighed. "As for now, I vote we get something to eat. Nancy wouldn't want us here mourning; she would want us out and celebrating the closure we waited so long for."

Ned grinned. "I agree with you there. Let's go."

As the others followed Carson toward their cars, Ned fell behind for a moment. He turned back to his girlfriend's grave and smiled, remembering those few minutes he had with her. _We'll be together soon_, she had said. Until that day came, he would make sure to make the best of each day. He kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them against Nancy's gravestone. "I love you, Nancy."


End file.
